绿里奇迹(英文版)-第73章

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　to　it。　
We　went　into　my　office。　John　looked　around　for　a　moment　or　two；　then　dropped　to　his　knees　without　having　to　be　asked。　Behind　him；　Harry　was　looking　at　me　with　haunted　eyes。　Dean　was　as　white　as　paper。　
I　got　down　on　my　knees　with　John　and　thought　there　was　a　funny　turnaround　brewing　here：　after　all　the　prisoners　I'd　had　to　help　up　so　they　could　finish　the　journey；　this　time　I　was　the　one　who　was　apt　to　need　a　hand。　That's　the　way　it　felt；　anyway。　
〃What　should　we　pray　for；　boss？〃　John　asked。　
〃Strength〃；　I　said　without　even　thinking。　I　closed　my　eyes　and　said；　〃Lord　God　of　'Hosts；　please　help　us　finish　what　we've　started；　and　please　wele　this　man；　John　Coffey　…　like　the　drink　but　not　spelled　the　same　…　into　heaven　and　give　him　peace。　Please　help　us　to　see　him　off　the　way　he　deserves　and　let　nothing　go　wrong。　Amen。〃　I　opened　my　eyes　and　looked　at　Dean　and　Harry。　Both　of　them　looked　a　little　better。　Probably　it　was　having　a　few　moments　to　catch　their　breath。　I　doubt　it　was　my　praying。　
I　started　to　get　up；　and　John　caught　my　arm。　He　gave　me　a　look　that　was　both　timid　and　hopeful。　〃I　'member　a　prayer　someone　taught　me　when　I　'us　little〃；　he　said。　〃At　least　I　think　I　do。　Can　I　say　it？〃　
〃You　go　right　on　and　do　her〃；　Dean　said。　〃Lots　of　time　yet；　John　。〃　
John　closed　his　eyes　and　frowned　with　concentration。　I　expected　now…I…lay…me…down…to…sleep；　or　maybe　a　garbled　version　of　the　Lord's　prayer；　but　I　got　neither；　I　had　never　heard　what　he　came　out　with　before；　and　have　never　heard　it　again；　not　that　either　the　sentiments　or　expressions　were　particularly　unusual。　Holding　his　hands　up　in　front　of　his　closed　eyes；　John　Coffey　said：　〃Baby　Jesus；　meek　and　mild；　pray　for　me；　an　orphan　child。　Be　my　strength；　be　my　friend；　be　with　me　until　the　end。　Amen。〃　He　opened　his　eyes；　started　to　get　up；　then　looked　at　me　closely。　
I　wipe　my　arm　across　my　eyes。　As　I　listened　to　him；　I　had　been　thinking　about　Del；　he　had　wanted　to　pray　one　more　at　the　end；　too。　Holy　Mary；　mother　of　God；　pray　for　us　sinners　now；　and　at　the　hour　of　our　death。　〃Sorry；　John　。〃　
〃Don't　be〃；　he　said。　He　squeezed　my　arm　and　smiled。　And　then；　as　I'd　thought　he　might　have　to　do；　he　helped　me　to　my　feet。　
10。　
There　weren't　many　witnesses　…　maybe　fourteen　in　all；　half　the　number　that　had　been　in　the　storage　room　for　the　Delacroix　execution。　Homer　Cribus　was　there；　overflowing　his　chair　as　per　usual；　but　I　didn't　see　Deputy　McGee。　Like　Warden　Moores；　he　had　apparently　decided　to　give　this　one　a　miss。　
Sitting　in　the　front　row　was　an　elderly　couple　I　didn't　recognize　at　first；　even　though　I　had　seen　their　pictures　in　a　good　many　newspaper　articles　by　that　day　in　the　third　week　of　November。　Then；　as　we　neared　the　platform　where　Old　Sparky　waited；　the　woman　spat；　〃Die　slow；　you　son　of　a　bitch！〃　and　I　realized　they　were　the　Dettericks；　Klaus　and　Marjorie。　I　hadn't　recognized　them　because　you　don't　often　see　elderly　people　who　haven't　yet　climbed　out　of　their　thirties。　
John　hunched　his　shoulders　at　the　sound　of　the　woman's　voice　and　Sheriff　Cribus's　grunt　of　approval。　Hank　Bitterman；　who　had　the　guard…post　near　the　front　of　the　meager　group　of　spectators；　never　took　his　eyes　off　Klaus　Detterick。　That　was　per　my　orders；　but　Detterick　never　made　a　move　in　John　's　direction　that　night。　Detterick　seemed　to　be　on　some　other　pla。　
Brutal；　standing　beside　Old　Sparky；　gave　me　a　small　finger…tilt　as　we　stepped　up　onto　the　platform。　He　holstered　his　sidearm　and　took　John　's　wrist；　escorting　him　toward　the　electric　chair　as　gently　as　a　boy　leading　his　date　out　onto　the　floor　for　their　first　dance　as　a　couple。　
〃Everything　all　right；　John　？〃　he　asked　in　a　low　voice。　
〃Yes；　boss；　but。　。　。〃　His　eyes　were　moving　from　side　to　side　in　their　sockets；　and　for　the　first　time　he　looked　and　sounded　scared。　〃But　they's　a　lot　of　folks　here　hate　me。　A　lot。　I　can　feel　it。　Hurts。　Bores　in　like　bee…stings　an；　hurts。〃　
〃Feel　how　we　feel；　then；〃　Brutal　said　in　that　same　low　voice。　〃We　don't　hate　you　…　can　you　feel　that？〃　
〃Yes；　boss。〃　But　his　voice　was　trembling　worse　now；　and　his　eyes　had　begun　to　leak　their　slow　tears　again。　
〃Kill　him　twice；　you　boys！〃　Marjorie　Detterick　suddenly　screamed。　Her　ragged；　strident　voice　was　like　a　slap。　John　cringed　against　me　and　moaned。　〃You　go　on　and　kill　that　raping　baby…killer　twice；　that'd　be　just　fine！〃　
Klaus；　still　looking　like　a　man　dreaming　awake；　pulled　her　against　his　shoulder。　She　began　to　sob。　
I　saw　with　dismay　that　Harry　Terwilliger　was　crying；　too。　So　far　none　of　the　spectators　had　seen　his　tears　…　his　back　was　to　them　…　but　he　was　crying；　all　right。　Still；　what　could　we　do？　Besides　push　on　with　it；　I　mean？　
Brutal　and　I　turned　John　around。　Brutal　pressed　on　one　of　the　big　man's　shoulders　and　John　sat。　He　gripped　Sparky's　wide　oak　arms；　his　eyes　moving　from　side　to　side；　his　tongue　darting　out　to　wet　first　one　corner　of　his　mouth；　then　the　other。　
Harry　and　I　dropped　to　our　knees。　The　day　before；　we'd　had　one　of　the　shop…trusties　weld　temporary　flexible　extensions　to　the　chair's　ankle　clamps；　because　John　Coffey's　ankles　were　nigh　on　the　size　of　an　ordinary　fellow's　calves。　Still；　I　had　a　nightmarish　moment　when　I　thought　they　were　still　going　to　e　up　small；　and　we'd　have　to　take　him　back　to　his　cell　while　Sam　Broderick；　who　was　head　of　the　shop　guys　in　those　days；　was　found　and　tinkered　some　more。　I　gave　a　final；　extra…hard　shove　with　the　heels　of　my　hands　and　the　clamp　on　my　side　closed。　John　's　leg　jerked　and　he　gasped。　I　had　pinched　him。　
〃Sorry；　John　；〃　I　murmured；　and　glanced　at　Harry。　He　had　gotten　his　clamp　fixed　more　easily　（either　the　extension　on　his　side　was　a　little　bigger　or　John　's　right　calf　was　a　little　smaller）；　but　he　was　looking　at　the　result　with　a　doubtful　expression。　I　guessed　I　could　understand　why；　the　modified　clamps　had　a　hungry　look；　their　jaws　seeming　to　gape　like　the　mouths　of　alligators。　
〃It'll　be　all　right〃；　I　said；　hoping　that　I　sounded　convincing　。。。　and　that　I　was　telling　the　truth。　〃Wipe　your　face；　Harry。〃　
He　swabbed　at　it　with　his　arm；　wiping　away　tears　from　his　cheeks　and　beads　of　sweat　from　his　forehead。　We　turned。　Homer　Cribus；　who　had　been　talking　too　loudly　to　the　man　sitting　next　to　him　（the　prosecutor；　judging　from　the　string　tie　and　rusty　black　suit）；　fell　silent。　It　was　almost　time。　
Brutal　had　clamped　one　of　John　's　wrists；　Dean　the　other。　Over　Dean's　shoulder　I　could　see　the　doctor；　unobtrusive　as　ever；　standing　against　the　wall　with　his　black　bag　between　his　feet。　Nowadays　I　guess　they　just　about　run　such　affairs；　especially　the　ones　with　the　IV　drips；　but　back　then　you　almost　had　to　yank　them　forward　if　you　wanted　them。　Maybe　back　then　they　had　a　clearer　idea　of　what　was　right　for　a　doctor　to　be　doing；　and　what　was　a　perversion　of　the　special　promise　they　make；　the　one　where　they　swear　first　of　all　to　do　no　harm。　
Dean　nodded　to　Brutal。　Brutal　turned　his　head；　seemed　to　glance　at　the　telephone　that　was　never　going　to　ring　for　the　likes　of　John　Coffey；　and　called　〃Roll　on　one！〃　to　Jack　Van　Hay。　
There　was　that　hum；　like　an　old　fridge　kicking　on；　and　the　lights　burned　a　little　brighter。　Our　shadows　stood　out　a　little　sharper；　black　shapes　that　climbed　the　wall　and　seemed　to　hover　around　the　shadow　of　the　chair　like　vultures。　John　drew　in　a　sharp　breath。　His　knuckles　were　white。　
〃Does　it　hurt　yet？〃　Mrs。　Detterick　shrieked　brokenly　from　against　her　husband's　shoulder。〃I　hope　it　does！　I　hope　it　hurts　like　hell！〃　Her　husband　squeezed　her。　One　side　of　his　nose　was　bleeding；　I　saw；　a　narrow　trickle　of　red　working　its　way　down　into　his　narrow…gauge　mustache。　When　I　opened　the　paper　the　following　March　and　saw　he'd　died　of　a　stroke；　I　was　about　the　least　surprised　man　on　earth。　
Brutal　stepped　into　John　's　field　of　vision。　He　touched　John　's　shoulder　as　he　spoke。　That　was　irregular；　but　of　the　witnesses；　only　Curtis　Anderson　knew　it；　and　he　did　not　seem　to　remark　it。　I　thought　he　looked　like　a　man　who　only　wants　to　be　done　with　his　current　job。　Desperately　wants　to　be　done　with　it。　He　enlisted　in　the　Army　after　Pearl　Harbor；　but　never　got　overseas；　he　died　at　Fort　Bragg；　in　a　truck　accident。　
John；　meanwhile；　relaxed　beneath　Brutal's　fingers。　I　don't　think　he　understood　much；　if　any；　of　what　Brutal　was　telling　him；　but　he　took　fort　from　Brutal's　hand　on　his　shoulder。　Brutal；　who　died　of　a　heart　attack　about　twenty…five　years　later　（he　was　eating　a　fish　sandwich　and　watching　TV　wrestling　when　it　happened；　his　sister　said）；　was　a　good　man。　My　friend。　Maybe　the　best　of　us。　He　had　no　trouble　understanding　how　a　man　could　simultaneously　want　to　go　and　still　be　terrified　of　the　trip。　
〃John　Coffey；　you　have　been　condemned　to　die　in　the　electric　chair；　sentence　passed　by　a　jury　of　your　peers　and　imposed　by　a　judge　of　good　standing　in　this　state。　God　save　the　people　of　this　state。　Do　you　have　anything　to　say　before　sentence　is　carried　out？〃　
John　wet　his　lips　again；　then　spoke　clearly。　Six　words。　〃I'm　sorry　for　what　I　am。〃　
〃You　ought　to　be！〃　the　mother　of　the　two　dead　girls　screamed。　〃Oh　you　monster；　you　ought　to　be！　YOU　DAMN　WELL　OUGHT　TO　BE！〃　
John's　eyes　turned　to　me。　I　saw　no　resignation　in　them；　no　hope　of　heaven；　no　dawning　peace。　How　I　would　love　to　tel